BEST-LAID PLANS


Having lunch with my mom at the Riverdale Diner, NYC,
I wore my Agnostic Front T-shirt, red braces, and boots.
In time, American skinheads adopted their own style
different from Brits. Lots of tattooed muscles.
Just in time for the ‘80s skinhead/bonehead schism.

At the time, I was 16. A teenage blond girl about my age
approached me at the counter. She wanted me to take
her to a CBGBs Hardcore Matinee. Girl needed someone
to escort her through the testosterone maze.

But I was moving to San Diego in a few days! Too bad,
so sad. My future wife and I parted before I could grow
my hair long, do beer bong hits in college, get married
and have kids, become a well-intentioned, middle class
member of the community. Wonder where she is now?

Yeah, that’s the worst thing that ever happened to me.
As I sit here and type and wait for my Deluxe Quarter
Pounder to be delivered. Oh well, at least I don’t have
to worry about A.A. sponsors anymore. I took a different
route to recovery. I’ll smoke a Rocky Patel on the patio
later. Raise a Coke Zero to the one who got away!